R.I.P.

One year ago today

You decided to go

Sometimes I’m in disbelief

I didn’t know

So we weep

With tears for you

As an ocean opens up

To swallow you

Gravity reversed, taking things away

While your demons on fear fed

Maybe thinking you’d find

a place for your head

Did you feel cold

And lost in desperation?  

When you were standing

in the wake of devastation

We wonder what you’d say

About this grief unraveled

Maybe ‘weep not

For roads untraveled’

In the wastelands of today

When there’s nothing left to lose

You showed us how to survive

That’s a truth not a ruse

No I don’t know

Why is everything so heavy

How much water is too much

For this splintering levee

You helped so many stay afloat

And keep climbing their ladder,

Wherever you are please know

In the end, it really did matter.

– Vagabond Prophet

– Rest In Peace Chester Bennington, we miss you.

HOV Lane

vagabondprophet:


If you’re the kind of person

With enough baggage to use

The carpool lane alone

You’re not alone.

Want somebody to ride with?

We’ll get more smiles per hour,

We’ll kill the suspension shortly

With the weight of it all.

Do you care?

I don’t,

When the car breaks down

Leave the baggage in the trunk

Keep on walking and watch it all burn.

– Vagabond Prophet

Campfire Thoughts

Heat taking form so long

As it has something to climb

And eyes to sting.

Standing on the shoulders

Of noble planks gone black

In the name of warmth,

In the name of romance,

In the name of mesmerizing

Souls like mine for hours on end.

Quieting and emptying

A restless mind.

Oh to surrender to that

Unstoppable goodness

So much harder than evil

Which always molds to your fancy.

– Vagabond Prophet

Captain

This house will be full

Of heads needing rest

And mouths needing food.

Every bedroom window being

Fogged by steady breathing.

At the break of dawn

Seven souls will be stirred,

I’m the captain with an

Ever growing crew

And I need some wind at my back.

– Vagabond Prophet

Backtracking Majesty

I am arrested by love

Incarcerated by affection.

I once walked the withering sands alone,

Burning these pale soles black,

Sweat stinging these blue eyes shut.

I used to tread the coals of hot regret

Until I noticed some backtracking majesty.

I saw still morning lakes

Reflecting things much deeper

Than themselves.

Saplings with supporting rods,

Even twigs need a father

Something to grow in the shadow of

Learning not to turn all blooms

Away from but towards the sun.

That trees need no language,

Soil needs no tongue

They speak to each other

With yearning twisted fingers

And thrive upon the embrace.

The sun has no agenda

Yet the mountains bow

Before the glory every morn.

Rain that kisses the land

To lend a helping land

When the fields cry out

With dry lips and parched throats.

No paperwork, no formal requests

Only simple needs simply stated.

Every rockslide applause

For the sky it could never reach,

Every thunderstorm a parade,

Fireworks celebrating

The end of another drought.

Finally the people who dare to trust,

Loving and giving to people

Who can never pay them back.

Working fingers to the bone

To help others find a home,

In this world full of shadows

Finally shedding some light

By trusting and striking

Some matches on the rocks.

So yes I am not my own,

By love I am arrested

My deepest sins contested

And at times even jested,

That I would be such a fool

As to sojourn alone.

By grandeur so big it’s hard to see

I am swallowed whole

And spat back out a whole person,

With a whole soul

That is freely yet completely

Given to the one who soothed

My aching feet and breaking heart.

– Vagabond Prophet

Grip

Grip tightly to the bravery

Caught at brightest noon

When your form casts no darkness

Behind itself.

Grip tightly through

The long evening shadows

And the deep black of night

Until the sun boldly climbs the hills again.

– Vagabond Prophet

The Man Of Stones

mildreflections:

His eyes were red and teary so,

Nothing he said could be heard.

They all called him a crazy soul,

As he walked with a bag of stones

He dearly loved.

They watched him stumble,

And tear his skin,

The pavement marks his bloody path.

When asked why he walks with such heavy things,

He only said

They were close to his heart.

So he tread with pain,

And an arched back,

Always hurt, but never shown.

They said it was because he had forgotten,

That he was only a man of flesh and bones.

I think they missed his eager eye,

Always hoping for that final stop.

Somewhere he could place his rocks and sigh,

Relieved that he could finally rest his thighs.

Alas! They found him on the ground,

Buried under the weight of his dear stones.

They mourned the fool,

And cursed at his ill fate,

Feigning some care and compassion.

But never saw the peaceful smile,

That blessed his face.

That lay forgotten.

That lay forgotten.

                                – Mild Reflection

Love this.

Wardrobe

Beware the song with steps danced slowly

With melody so sweet that each word

Eagerly leaps from your tongue,

Do not let beautiful mantras

Robe your mind with lies.

Beware the wolf with wardrobe full of deceit,

Having spent its days learning your itches

Content with scratching before biting,

Not all pleasures good

Many dipped in arsenic

For hunted animals,

In dead of winter of course

He calls you precious.

A caution for the new tenant

In the old house

Unaware of the boards that creak

To wake a sleeping beast,

Know where you are and be on guard,

Mindful that home is a place nobody has been.

Careful with the man who never plays pretend,

Never trying to be somebody better than he is

To make it fit by force, always at ease

With a spirit malnourished.

Traits so wonderful never fit naturally

But in time you can grow into them.

– Vagabond Prophet

Thanks @josy57 for prompting @mildreflections and I with “Hunted Animals.”

Hope folks like it.